


Dirty Fighting

by moonboots



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 03:04:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5480900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonboots/pseuds/moonboots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zero takes a sick day...with a little help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty Fighting

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Amielleon for helping me tighten this up!

"You look like shit."  
  
Zero laboriously lifted his eye from the spy reports he'd been staring at for the past hour and growled.   
  
"Sound like it, too." Ashura looked annoyingly unintimidated as he leaned against a bookcase. There was a brightness in his eyes and clarity in his voice that Zero found himself jealous of. This morning there had only been a tickle in his throat; nothing to think twice about. Within a few hours it was a full blown burning, his eyes were crusty, and even his breathing rasped.   
  
"What do you want?" he grunted.   
  
"I heard there was some fearsome beast monopolizing the library. Your breathing sure sounds like it."   
  
_"You_ sound like Odin," said Zero, deliberately turning back to the same paragraph he'd been struggling with for the last fifteen minutes. "And that's none of your business."   
  
"It is when I'm in the infirmary this week. I don't want every mage in the castle ending up in there because you sneezed all over the tomes."   
  
"This isn't a tome," said Zero mulishly.   
  
"Uh-huh, that's the main problem here. Look, even Harold told me you were scaring everyone out of here with your wheezing." Ashura started gathering up his papers. "Get back to bed. I'll go make excuses with your lord."   
  
"Lord Leon needs these reviewed," argued Zero. Spy reports could be mind-numbingly tedious as the agent reported on every lunch, nose-scratch, and petted cat, but they never knew when some obscure bit of information may prove critical. Leon had once deduced that a noble was getting his hands dirty on the other side of the border when he started eating a particular fish only found in Hoshido waters.   
  
"Are they life-or-death? Any reason they can't wait until tomorrow or be taken care of by Odin?"   
  
"I can't lie around and do nothing," said Zero.   
  
"Is Lord Leon the kind of person to keep working you through sickness?"   
  
"He's done it himself."   
  
"And I don't believe for a second you didn't give him an earful over it." The older thief was frustratingly perceptive sometimes. As much as it wasn't his place to scold Lord Leon, there had been a few choice comments to be made when the prince tried to keep working through a flu with his only concession to illness being a vomit bucket under his desk. Thankfully, Leon had been half asleep on a book by noon and hadn't protested when Zero bundled him off to bed. "Besides, you're not intimidating anyone with your voice like that."   
  
Zero's "hmph" had a distinctly phlegmatic gurgle.   
  
"I appreciate that you're trying," said Ashura with a note of friendly condescension. "Have you eaten today?"   
  
"Didn't want to swallow." The tickle had become a burn by the time he was dressed, and breakfast hadn't seemed worth the trouble.   
  
"And that's how I know you're sick, you said something like that without a follow up."   
  
Zero scowled.   
  
"Fine, fine, I won't make too much fun of you when you can't fight back. I should, but I'm not as good at sadism as you." Ashura laughed at his sour face. "Now come on, get yourself to bed. I'll bring something by later."   
  
As much as he wanted to argue, his rusty throat couldn't force the words out before Ashura was already gone. Unfortunately, he was right. Zero could reluctantly admit that if he had seen his master at breakfast, Lord Leon would have ordered him back to bed already.   
  
He preferred to stay working, and he was sick rarely enough that he could usually afford to. Lying around made him feel like he was wasting space. Before Leon, he had never been in a position to simply take a day off; survival was his life, and there were no sanctioned breaks. 

The distinct rattle of his breathing wasn't going to allow that, though. Alright, now that he was thinking about it being horizontal sounded wonderful to his throbbing head. His feet began to carry him ploddingly back to his room, each step barely lifting off the floor.

For a fanciful moment, he considered chasing Ashura down and or pleading his case with Leon himself, but dismissed it. As little as he wanted to admit defeat, it was ridiculous to try and keep working like this. Bed couldn't come fast enough. The sooner he laid back down, the sooner he could pass out and sleep through this physical misery.   
  
The moment he opened his door he shucked off his boots, dropped his cloak on the floor, and crawled back into bed.   
  
Zero jolted awake as the door clicked open. There was no recollection of falling back asleep, only pulling his shirt off under the blankets and debating putting it on again when he kept shivering. Somehow, he felt worse; his body was made of lead, his throat was a tangle of burning wire, and his eyes were even crustier.

He did a sluggish double-take as Ashura pushed open the door with his shoulder (he hadn't locked it?), a loaded tray in his arms.   
  
"Sorry I took so long. I bumped into Midoriko and she insisted on giving me something to help your throat."   
  
"...what are you doing here?" he mumbled. His mouth was lined with a disgusting layer of mucus, and he made a face.   
  
"Don't tell me you forgot I said I was coming back?” It felt like he had slept for hours, but Ashura looked as annoyingly bright as he had in the library. He kicked the door shut behind him.   
  
"You must have assignments today." Talking brought a unique pain to his ragged throat.   
  
"I got dragged out of bed before sunrise to lend a hand in the infirmary. A bunch of the regular healers are sick. Seems like there's something going around -- but you wouldn’t know anything about that," he said dryly.

Zero stared at him flatly. His aching head wasn't in the mood for Ashura's sudden good humor, but he continued, undeterred by Zero's dark look.   
  
"Like I told you, your lord said he didn't want to see you until you weren't wheezing." He set the tray on Zero's bedside table and pulled a narrow book from the depths of his cloak. "And he gave me this for you. Odin said he'd drop by later. Or -- he said something much longer, but I think that's what he meant. Either that or he's challenging you to a duel."

He could already hear it -- ‘I will appear to test my companion’s resolve, for the Jet Black warrior of darkness will only have the most fit guardian at his back!’. At this point, Zero spoke fluent Odin.   
  
With the food delivered Zero had expected Ashura to say his goodbyes and leave him in feverish peace. Instead, he dragged a chair over and sat down. Zero stared at him with a confused, bleary eye.   
  
"You think I need a nursemaid?" His disdain for the idea was mostly lost in his raspy voice.   
  
"If you want to get some sleep I'll find something else to do, but I haven't eaten yet, either." Ashura shrugged off his cloak and stuck his gloves in his belt, apparently taking Zero's silence as assent.   
  
Zero eyed the tea thoughtfully. It smelled alright enough, as much as he could smell. Some of the food on the tray was obviously Ashura's -- cheese-filled pastries were a newfound guilty pleasure of his that Zero had no stomach for. Other than that, there was soft bread and oatmeal that looked tolerable even to his raw throat.   
  
"You know what you're doing," he said, surprised. Both from what he factually knew of Ashura and his own impressions since they became something like friends, the man seemed like a loner.   
  
If Ashura was offended at the bewilderment in his voice, he didn't show it. "I've done healing work when I could. Never had much magic in me, but I have some talent with staves. The basic caretaking is about the same when it comes to sickness."   
  
"You did all this for bandits?" Neither of them made a habit of prodding into the other's criminal history, but his restraint was functioning as well as his voice. He couldn't shake the mental image of Ashura as some strange mother hen to other lowlives in the bowels of Nohr.   
  
"Not quite so much personal service. And they paid me, whether it was money or food."   
  
"Freelance rod knight," he mumbled.   
  
"Something like that,” said Ashura with an indulgent smile. “Less praying, more threats. Now sit up, at least get some of this tea in you. Midoriko will have my hide if I let you skip it."   
  
Zero dragged himself upright with a grunt. His bare skin being suddenly exposed made him shiver, and he clutched the blankets more tightly around himself. Ashura pressed the steaming mug into his hand and sat back before tucking into his own late breakfast.   
  
He wasn't especially fond of tea, but it was drinkable. No syrupy sweetness and the warmth was soothing to his throat. He didn’t know flavors of tea well enough to pick out whatever was supposed to be medicinal about it, which was fine by him.

The food was starting to look appetizing as the hot tea loosened some of his congestion. Not nearly as hungry as he ought to be when he hadn't eaten since yesterday afternoon, when his lack of appetite had seemed like happenstance, but it was enough to motivate him to slouch forward and pick at the bread.  
  
He stole glances at Ashura as they ate. It was true that they were friends. Zero had never expected to be amiable with a man he had taken such pleasure in harassing, yet there they were. This sort of care was hardly the same as sharing a lunch table or testing one another in archery, though, and Zero was having some trouble wrapping his feverish head around it. Maybe he considered the situation to be part of his healer duties? In Leon’s service he had experienced the tender mercies of the maids and rod knights more than once and in spite of being gentle, they carried a brusque indifference that was missing here.  
  
"You keep looking confused." Ashura frowned, reaching for him. His rough fingers were cool against Zero's forehead, but he couldn't suppress a surprised flinch at the hand in his face. Even boisterous, over-friendly Harold didn't put a hand on his forehead. "You're not _that_ warm, though. If you're feeling disoriented, maybe I should get you to someone more experienced..."  
  
"I'm not soft in the head," rasped Zero. As much as the babying annoyed him, when Ashura pulled back he found himself missing the soothing touch against his hot skin. "I can't figure out why you're here."  
  
"I told you, eating." He took a massive bite of his pastry to demonstrate.   
  
"Do _not_ talk with your mouth full," warned Zero. His stomach was already on uncertain terms with the little he'd eaten and seeing Ashura's half-chewed breakfast would turn that into all-out war.   
  
He had to reflect on the absurdity of _him_ scolding another person for poor etiquette. As much as he hated to recollect it, his own eating habits had been much the same when he was fresh off the street. That had changed quickly enough. A vassal who was ready to commit certain cruelties and exploit connections in the underground was useful to Leon's reputation; a slovenly one was not.  
  
And besides that, it was gross.  
  
Ashura snorted, but covered his mouth with exaggerated politeness until he swallowed.   
  
"You don't get sick a lot, huh?"  
  
Looking to spare his aching throat, Zero only shook his head. The few times he had been ill had been mild enough to push through. As a boy he had counted himself lucky in that; when disease rippled through the slums, he saw more than enough of the wasted bodies of other street urchins. If you couldn't stand on your own feet, you weren't going to get back up.   
  
Ashura chuckled. "I know who to press-gang the next time something spreads in camp, then. You told me Lord Leon said you had the spark, right? I'm sure I could set you up with a staff easy enough."  
  
"What are you rambling about?" he snapped. Forcing energy into his gravelly voice hurt, but his annoyance was mounting. Where did Ashura get off being so damn energetic? The older man was usually the more morose one, and the relative. _..perkiness_ he now indulged was bewildering.   
  
“Just an old man’s fantasies, don’t get your dander up.” There was still half a smile on his face as he mopped his plate with a piece of bread to catch any fallen cheese. “I do think you’d make a fair healer, though. In spite of, you know…” He gestured to Zero as a whole. “ _You_. It takes a certain matter-of-factness that you have in spades.”

Trying to follow the chain of logic made his temples pulse. “I’m not becoming a healer.”  
  
“Right, right.” Finally, Ashura let him have a measure of peaceful silence as he finished the last of his meal.

Zero sipped at his tea, letting his eyelid droop as the warmth bloomed in his throat. Through Odin and his prince, magic surrounded him. Leon's tomes had always made his fingers tingle when he was handed them, but through both opportunity and inclination it had never been a path for him. Lessons of the arcane weren't found in the slums, and although Leon was pleasantly surprised at his spark of talent, Zero knew he had no need of a subpar mage when he and Odin were more than capable. He was content to serve Leon to the best of his abilities as he was.

Ashura stood and brushed crumbs off of himself, but when Zero slumped back into the blankets -- the book could wait, holding something up for more than five minutes sounded far too taxing right now -- the older man tilted his head.  
  
"You're gonna go back to sleep like that?"

Ashura pointed at...something in the darkness on Zero's right, and he had to settle for an inquisitive grunt instead of speaking. Gods, this was frustrating. The jackass knew he could hardly talk, why did he keep asking questions? He had never seemed to enjoy the sound of his own voice like this before.   
  
"Your eyepatch is all tangled with your hair; I thought you knew. Fell asleep with it on, huh?"   
  
"Hn...?" Zero raised a hand to his face. Yes, he could feel that the patch was askew, and now that he thought about it his persistent headache probably had a lot to do with the hair he found twisted up around the string. Hadn’t locked his door, hadn’t taken his eyepatch off -- fever was doing a number on his mind. He groped for the knot, but his clumsy fingers caught a chunk of hair when he yanked at it and he hissed in discomfort.   
  
"Look, you don't have to tear your hair out. Let me get that."   
  
And before Zero could object, Ashura was leaning over him and gently cupping his head, sliding his fingers through Zero's hair to find the string.   
  
His breath caught at the sudden closeness. There was nowhere to look but up at Ashura's face, and when their eyes met the older man offered a lopsided smile before returning to his task.   
  
Even a blind knot was no challenge to the nimble fingers of a career thief, and it was only a handful of breaths before Ashura was carefully tugging the patch out of his tangled hair. There was instant relief when the knot gave, his tangled hair no longer pulling at his scalp. A residual ache remained, but the worst of the tension had released.   
  
"That better?" Ashura wrapped the strings around the patch and left it on top of Leon's book.

Ashura's gaze didn't so much as flicker to his missing eye, but Zero hadn't truly expected it to. He had seen everything in the slums that Zero had. On top of that, Zero knew that the older man's body was a mess of scarring after catching him in the baths (and that his body hair favored black over white, which had been a standing item of curiosity he had been sure to loudly comment on). After his years of working and traveling alone, there had to be little that surprised him.

Zero grunted, finger-combing his matted hair to mask his reaction. There was an odd adrenaline pumping in his veins that he couldn't entirely blame on the fever, and he was just weak enough to risk showing it.

Collecting himself, he leaned back and bared the line of his neck. A sultry gaze met Ashura's.   
  
"Awfully forward, aren't you?" he murmured, tilting his head up. "Trying to take advantage?"

The effect was ruined by the wet coughing fit he broke into. Something slimy rippled unpleasantly in his throat and came loose. A napkin was pushed into his hand and he spat mucus into it in desperation to get it out of his mouth. His throat curdled in revulsion. Vomiting was better than this -- at least you got it over with fast enough.

He balled up the napkin and threw it on the table before looking back up at Ashura.  
  
Who burst into laugher.   
  
Now Zero _was_ glaring, his cheeks burning with humiliation as well as fever.   
  
"Sorry, sorry, I'm not trying to laugh at you feeling terrible." Ashura's smile gave some lie to that, but Zero didn't reject the cool hand that brushed sweaty hair out of his face. "I haven't seen you like this before. You're bundled up and clammy and still trying to act all suggestive. Phlegm aside, it's kind of cute."   
  
Only Ashura could call something as disgusting as illness cute, and what was with the touching? It was one of his favorite ways to annoy the older man, because he clearly didn’t like it. Even purely chaste shoulder-claps made him twitch, so why was he being so casual about touching Zero’s _face?_ Zero stared at him in disbelief as he stepped back.   
  
"Are _you_ sick?"   
  
"Just pretend I'm overtired, eh?" Joints popped as he stretched his arms, and he didn't bother to muffle a huge yawn. Suddenly he sagged, the earlier energy gone out of him like a snuffed candle. "I've been working since before the sun and maybe I'd rather take care of someone I like rather than every rank and file soldier clogging up the infirmary with every little complaint." He rubbed his lower back and frowned. "I _know_ some of them are just hung over, you know. I may not be young, but I _have_ touched liquor before."   
  
"The hell are you doing here if you’re half-asleep?" Zero said. 'Take care of someone I like' was a foreign phrase that made his aching head stutter to a halt when he tried to dissect it, so he ignored it to focus on what made sense. Ashura only shrugged.   
  
"Well, you weren't going to bed. Someone had to do it."

“I'm not dying.”

“Do you have to be?”

Zero wasn’t sure what to say to that, and his burning throat didn’t allow him to waste words on confusion.

“Anyway, I’ve had enough people cough in my face today that I’m almost ready to give up and pass out in _your_ bed, but I can tough it out ‘til my own room.” He settled his cloak around his shoulders again and took the tray. “You’re all set, right?”

“I guess,” said Zero at length. He wasn’t sure what else he could need -- hell, he hadn’t expected any of _this_ in the first place.

“Good. I’m sure Odin will bang loud enough to wake the dead, so get some sleep.” And with a lazy wave and a yawn he at least tried to hide this time, Ashura left. The door clicked softly behind him.

It still wasn’t locked.

“...thanks,” Zero told it.


End file.
